An Aberrant Assignment
by Lady Triplet
Summary: Ed screwed up. He used alchemy after giving it up to Truth and now he has pay the price. To keep Al alive, he must take the assignment given to him by the so called God and fight to save his brother and another world. Little does he know, his task is harder than if first seems... Rating is Ed's language. Will update whenever possible.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: This is my first story so can you please review? I'd like some feedback and flames are welcome.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter, no matter how much I want to. -Sigh- If I did, I'd _so_ buy my own castle... :) **

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Ed was stumped. What the hell had just happened? The last thing he could remember was seeing Al and Winry waving goodbye to him as he jumped on the train to Central. Everything after that was blank, as if his mind was a whiteboard and someone had taken an eraser to it. Then, _he remembered…_

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_The train had been cruising along without a hitch, when suddenly, the train shook and stopped. He could hear the sounds of screaming and mass panic in the compartments ahead of his, and had run forward to investigate. It was chaos. Fellow passengers were shoving each other out of the way, all fighting to escape the fire that was working its way towards them. He realized that the engine must have failed, and immediately clapped his hands together to put the fire out. Unfortunately, he had forgotten his promise to Truth. He could never attempt alchemy again. There had been a blinding light, and then nothing._

_ Edward had wakened to the sound of bone-chilling laughter. All around him was a familiar white expanse, one he had hoped never to see again. "Oh Mister Al-chem-ist~," Truth sang. "You have failed to keep your promise to me. NO ALCHEMY. I guess you can say goodbye to your bro-" _

_ "WAIT! Please, I'll do anything. Just don't take my brother again, PLEASE!" begged Ed. He couldn't take that, not again. Anything would be better than losing the only family he had left, than losing his constant companion, the one person he could fully trust to keep his dark past secret. "Equivalent exchange, I know. Take my organs, my legs, please. Just don't take Al."_

_ "Mister Alchemist, you're in luck~. I have just the job for you. Let's see if you live up to the title 'Hero of the People', huh? You see, there's a man in a place called England. He seems to think he can be God, and we can't have that, now can we? It's your job to kill this man. In exchange for your help, you can keep your brother and you can even have your alchemy back while you're hunting him down. That's equivalent." _

_ "Why do you need me, though?" Ed's voice was full of contempt. "Why can't you just deal with him? You're Truth, God, the Universe, All and One, remember? Why do you, the omnipotent being of the world, need me to help you?"_

_ "Oh, Mister Al-chem-ist~, I cannot simply interfere in people's lives. This man does not use alchemy, and as such, I cannot touch him. That's where you come in. Find him and kill him. That's really not that bad a price to keep your brother, now is it Mister Al-chem-ist~?"_

_ Ed thought this over. All he had to do was kill one man and he could save Al? That's it? "I'll do it." His voice was filled with determination and conviction. "But first, who is this guy?"_

_ Truth's taunting voice haunted him as everything around him faded to black. "Tom Riddle. His name is Tom Riddle."_

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**_What do you think? It isn't too OOC, is it? Rate and review please!_**

**_- Lady Triplet_**


	2. The Graveyard Ritual

**Thank you to the following people for being totally awesome and reviewing:**

**blueorgray1236, ChopSuzi, E. P. Wat.s, supernaturalrox, and one unknown person called e.**

**Thank you to these people for eithe adding me to story alert or favoriting:**

**blueorgray1236, JanJan L-chan, justanotherkiller, TheHomerow, Cloud Shards, supernaturalrox, E. P. Wat.s, and ChopSuzi.**

**Also, ChopSuzi, if I could hug you, I would! A special thanks for my very first review and story alert! You rock!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or HP. Can I cry now?**

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Having remembered the how and why, Ed began to take in his bearings, to figure out the where of the situation. Apparently, he was somewhere in this _England_ place; to be more specific, it was a graveyard somewhere in England. A dark, overgrown, _spooky_ graveyard. Ed could hear the faint mumblings of voices up ahead, and see the flickering light of a fire. Sneaking up as stealthily as he could, Ed inched his way towards the sound of the voices. What he saw there utterly floored him.

The light was coming from a fire with a giant caldron sitting on it. Really, it was big enough for a person to sit in and still have room. It was made of stone and set underneath a massive headstone. What really disturbed him, however, was the sight of a ratty-looking man tying up a kid with messy black hair and glasses to said headstone. There was also the body of a rather handsome looking fellow lying spread-eagle in the grass nearby. But _what on earth _were these people wearing? They had on these weird cloaky-coat things that made Ed wonder if these people had escaped from the Amestris State Asylum. Then, one of the voices from earlier spoke.

"Wormtail", hissed the high, cold voice, seeming to come from a wriggling bundle of cloth on the ground. "Nagini tells me we have a guest. Why don't you bring him over? I want to meet him." Wait a minute….

'Oh crap, oh crap, oh CRAP!' Ed frantically tried to hide from the approaching figure. He _really _didn't want these weirdoes finding him. Who knew what the hell they were up to? Ed didn't want to stick around to find out. Suddenly, tight ropes cinched themselves around his arms and legs.

Ed was really freaking out now. How did the man called Wormtail (who would name their kid _that_? Poor guy) do that? Was it alchemy? If so, it was like nothing Ed had ever seen or read about. As he struggled in vain to escape from the ropes, they tightened painfully.

"Master, I have found the intruder, just as you commanded." Wormtail turned out to have a whiny, nasally voice that grated quite a bit on Ed's already worn nerves. He felt himself being dragged over to the headstone, and on the way, he spotted an absolutely massive snake slithering in the grass. The reptile looked as if it could swallow him whole and still be hungry. That was an alarming thought. Closer and closer was Ed dragged to the now bubbling caldron. He wondered how it heated so quickly. It didn't seem possible. It _couldn't _be possible. "Here he is, Master. What would you have me do with him?"

Ed caught a glimpse of the trussed-up kid on the headstone. His bright green eyes glistened with fear behind wire-rimmed glasses, and for a moment, gold met green in startling companionship. They were bound together by this strange experience, inexplicably, irrevocably, forever. Then that cold, high voice again spoke.

"We can use this one, as well as the boy. I sense he has power. Together, their blood will make me stronger than ever before." That sounded ominous to Ed; time to high-tail it out of here, _now._ 'But what about the other kid' thought Ed. 'I can't just leave him.' In fact, this boy with the glasses reminded him a bit of Al, with that vulnerable gaze, begging for help. He could use his newly restored alchemy, but his hands were still bound tightly at his sides.

While Ed was strategizing, however, Wormtail was picking up the wriggling bundle off the ground and, with the utmost care, placing it in the bubbling caldron. With shaking hands, the ratty man drew his wand and began the spell to revive the Dark Lord.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" The ground shook and the finest dust rose from the ground to fall into the caldron with a blinding flash of blue light. Ed looked over in shock, shaken from his mind's plotting.

"Flesh…. of the servant….. w-willingly given…. you will….. revive… your master…." With that, Wormtail brought a knife swiftly down on his right hand, which, oddly enough, was missing a finger. The man screamed in agony, and the liquid in the caldron flashed bloody red, like the thick substance now dripping from where his hand had once been. S***, now Ed _knew _these people were crazy. He had landed in the middle of some strange cult ritual. Even more alarming was the fact that the now one-handed man was now approaching the headstone with the same knife he had used to sever his own hand.

"B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will resurrect your foe." Wormtail put his knife to the boy's neck, forcing a dribble of blood into a small vial, before making his way over to where Ed lay. He slammed his knee down over Ed's shoulders to hold him down as he sliced Ed's neck, catching the blood welling up in the same vial. Wormtail made his way over to the caldron once again and tipped the blood into the already red liquid. The caldron's contents turned a blinding white, and smoke clouded the area. The hair on the back of Ed's neck stood up as the cold, high voice came from a tall figure standing up and out of the stone caldron.

"Robe me." it said. The smoke was clearing away, enough so that Ed could see the man who had been born out of this strange, _impossible_ ritual. His face was pale as death, with ruby snake-like eyes and slits for a nose. Snake-face looked over his body with uncontained wonderment and let out a mirthless laugh. Ah crap, Ed knew he was in way too deep now. Just what the hell did he agree to? He should have known it wouldn't be as easy to find this Tom Riddle, not if Truth was involved.

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**I really didn't want to start in the begining of the fifth book, like most people. I decided that Ed should be involved in resurrecting Voldy. I think Ed's handling the fact that a man just emerged from a caldron rather well, don't you? :D**

**- Lady Triplet**


	3. Minions and Malevolence

**A big thanks to the following for reviewing: ChopSuzi, supernaturalrox, justanotherkiller, the unknown XD, Truth's Apprentice, Breyannia, and Akuma Lee Crimson**

**These people are also metioned for either story alert or favoriting: Em Phantom, Major Midget, Avampiress, 42AnimeLover42, Mnicknack, Smiley-sama, and Peyton the Blood Alchemist**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or FullMetal Alchemist... ChopSuzi, can I have a hug now? -sob-**

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"_Robe me." it said. The smoke was clearing away, enough so that Ed could see the man who had been born out of this strange, impossible ritual. His face was pale as death, with ruby snake-like eyes and slits for a nose. Snake-face looked over his body with uncontained wonderment and let out a mirthless laugh. Ah crap, Ed knew he was in way too deep now. Just what the hell did he agree to? He should have known it wouldn't be as easy to find this Tom Riddle, not if Truth was involved._

Snake-face looked over to his sobbing, bleeding minion with distain and hissed lazily, "Hold out your arm."

The rat-faced Wormtail ('why did everyone here have animal-like faces anyway?', wondered Ed) held out his bleeding stump to his creepy master, obviously hoping for help with the fact that he was bleeding out and likely to die from blood loss soon. Too bad Snake-face had no sympathy and simply laughed at his crony's expectations.

"The other arm, Wormtail." Geeze, what was up with this guy's voice? It was girly high and would have been funny if not for the layer of frost and arrogance that constantly seemed to veil his emotions.

"Master… please… _please.._." begged poor Wormtail. Ed was beginning to feel sorry for the unfortunate underling. I mean, the guy cut off his hand to help his evil master, and all the thanks he gets is bleeding to death. Why was this Wormtail guy even following Snake-face anyway? Seriously, Snake-face treated him like dirt.

While Ed was debating Wormtail's reasoning behind following Voldemort, the Dark Lord pushed Wormtail's sleeve up his arm to reveal a tattoo. It was of a cartoon-ish skull, with a snake slithering out of its mouth. The Dark Lord pressed down on the tattoo, and Wormtail howled, as if that simple touch was a red-hot iron branding him.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" Ed heard Snake-face say. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?" Okay, Ed was beginning to suspect that this Snake-face was his target. The guy clearly had a god complex, and he stood up out of a freaking _caldron _like someone reborn, for Truth's sake. Snake-face turned to the boy tied to the headstone and began his victory rant, revealing all his careful planning. ('How stupid is he' thought Ed, 'the kid is just gonna run and tell some adult about it and everyone will know what a freak you are, Snake-face')

"You stand, Harry Potter" 'So _that _was the kid's name. Good to know,' thought Ed. "upon the remains of my late father."

"No s*** Sherlock," Ed interrupted. "Did you not listen to your minion's ramblings as he raised you from the dead, which, by the way, is _impossible_!"

"SILENCE, little fool. You are ruining my greatest moment. I, Lord Voldemort, have finally returned and now I shall begin my reign of terror anew." Yep, definite god complex there.

"Do you happen to be called Tom Rid…." Ed inquired before what 'Lord Moldymort' had said sunk in. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT A MICROSCOPIC AMOEBA COULDN'T SEE HIM EVEN WITH A MAGNEFYING GLASS? HUH? WANNA PIECE OF ME, NOSELESS WONDER, SEPENTINE FREAK?" He stopped, breathing heavily.

Lord Voldemort stared in shock at Ed. "_Who _told you that name," he spat venomously at Ed. "Who sent you? Was it that old fool Dumbledore? Speak!"

"Why would I tell you that? I'm not the idiot who goes around telling people their plots to take over the world and become god. That's you, not me, Snake-face. We're different people; don't make that mistake again." Ed was having fun now. This guy was easier to antagonize than Colonel Bastard, _and _he couldn't turn Ed into a crispy critter. Well, Ed hoped he couldn't, anyways.

"_Crucio!_" The girlishly high voice of Voldemort shrieked. Every nerve in Ed's body, including the ones in his automail leg, erupted in intense, blazing pain. With an act of pure will, he bit back a scream. If he could withstand those d*** homunculi and his automail surgery, then by Truth he could withstand this. Note to self: do _not _make this guy mad again. Forget Mustang, Voldemort was _way_ worse. But, as suddenly as the pain had begun, it stopped. Ed lay still on the ground, panting and trying not to move too much. Moving hurt.

"Now, once again, _who told you that name_?" Wow, was 'Moldymort' mad or what? Clearly he didn't like people guessing his real name. Ed couldn't guess why. Tom Riddle was a perfectly normal name, unlike Lord Voldemort. Actually, now that he thought about it, Ed could see his reasoning behind changing his name to something so weird. The guy wasn't normal, so why would he want a normal name? He'd just get laughed at. If Envy had had a name like Bob Smith, Ed would have laughed himself to death. It just didn't suit him. "Tell me!"

"No. Sorry, but I promised I would save my brother and to do that, I can't tell you my plans. But, since you're ranting at the kid, go ahead and finish that." Ed wasn't gonna tell this freak that the Universe, that _God,_ had sent him to kill him. It wouldn't hurt to tread carefully when it came to keeping a deal with Truth.

Abruptly, Voldemort turned back to the boy to continue his lecture, but there was a resounding crack, and dark figures filtered out from between the trees. _'Oooh_, spooky' Ed thought. 'That's not cliché at all. This doesn't look like a b-list horror movie, honestly!'

The dark figures made their way over to Snake-face and suddenly one knelt at his feet and kissed them, begging "Master…. master…" The others made a line to do the same. Weird. It seems Moldymort really did think he was a God. Well, Truth couldn't have that, so Ed began to carefully inch his bound hands together, to transmute the ropes away from his body. Hopefully no one would notice. All he had to do was wait for the moment they were all distracted in their worshiping and break free. Then he could cut down the kid, kill the freaks, and go home to Al. Piece of cake. Looks like his chance would be coming soon, too. Moldymort was lecturing his followers about how they didn't continue his work after his supposed death. All of a sudden, he looked at Wormtail and commented his loyalty, even if it was through fear.

'That's why Rat-face lets Moldymort push him around. He's terrified of a freak with a god complex.' Ed realized. Now Wormtail's reasons made so much more sense. The man _had _seemed like a spineless weakling, now that he thought about it. Wormtail was still sobbing when Voldemort raised his wand and created a silvery hand out of thin air.

Ed stared in shock. That wasn't possible! It _couldn't_ be possible. If it was, Ed wouldn't have had to get automail surgery to replace his leg and arm after he and Al failed to resurrect their mother. Truth owed him a lot of answers when he traveled back through the gate to get home. Ed began to theorize how this could possibly be, while Moldymort continued with his reprimand to his minions about their behavior, like they were unruly children. Blah blah blah, you failed me, blah blah blah, do better, blah blah blah… His voice was grating on Ed's last nerve. Would he just shut up and distract everyone already. Now the creep was telling his devotees how he achieved resurrection and how the Harry kid was important. His soul had been ripped from his body, rather like Al's had been, because he tried to kill this Harry kid when the kid was only a year old. Wow, poor kid. Moldymort must be sore about a baby defeating him. No wonder he wanted to kill the kid.

Voldemort raised his wand again, and Ed watched with bated breath. What miraculous and scientifically impossible thing would happen next? Unfortunately, Voldemort's only word was "_Crucio!_" The Harry kid writhed in pain from his place on the headstone, and then went limp.

"Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."

'NOW' Ed thought, clapping his hands together. 'Thank you Truth, for temporary permission to use alchemy…' There was a flash of blue alchemic energy and the ropes fell away from his body. The followers and the master stared in shock at Ed. 'Huh, I guess they forgot about me. Good, I can use that.' He bounded over to the headstone, where the boy had just dropped to the ground and grabbed his stick-like wand thingy. Ed grabbed onto him and pulled Harry away from the minions, sprinting over to the house on the hill above the cemetery.

"Wait! We can't leave Cedric. His parents will want to know!" cried Harry Potter, struggling from Ed's grasp. "And we can use the portkey to get back to Hogwarts."

"First of all, kid, _run_. Secondly, dead guy will slow us down. Thirdly, what the hell is a portkey? Wait don't answer that. It can get us out of here, right?" When Harry nodded, Ed continued. "What does it look like?" Harry pointed to the shiny golden cup lying in the grass near the dead boy. Was the kid blind? That was a trophy, not a whatever the hell a portkey was. But Harry was already sprinting towards the dead boy and the shiny trophy, so Ed had no choice but to follow. He ran after the kid, grabbing onto his arm just as the kid touched the body of Cedric and the portkey. He felt a jerking sensation behind his naval, and the spooky cemetery disappeared into a disorientating swirl of colors.

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**Don't you love Ed's talent of making people furious? Too bad he always picks the wrong people to practice it on...**

**If you have any ideas about how Ed should react to Hogwarts, just tell me. I'd love to hear any feedback, even if it's not so positive! Constructive critisism people! **

**-Lady Triplet**

**P.S. My chapters just get longer and longer the more I do this. I guess practice does make perfect!**


	4. Mayhem at Hogwarts

**Hi everyone! Sorry I didn't update Friday, but I had too much work. Anyways, I got a huge response to the last chapter, but I'd like to explain something right now (this is for you, anonymouse): I know Ed can't use alchemy at all at the end of FMA, even if he wanted to. I thought, however, that Truth wouldn't give up his little toy Ed so easily, especially if he knew Voldemort was getting out of hand. He knew he needed to use Ed to off Voldy, so he set him up for failure. There you go.**

**For my amazing reviewers, you get lots of virtual hugs and your names on here: Truth's Apprentice, Dov5e, Alice Nyte, 42AnimeLover42, Breyannia, ChopSuzi, the unknown anonymouse, ThBleachDoctor, Writingistherapy, and Mel72000**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or FullMetal Alchemist. If I did, Roy would be Fuhrer and Neville would be the Chosen One, not Harry.**

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…_Harry was already sprinting towards the dead boy and the shiny trophy, so Ed had no choice but to follow. He ran after the kid, grabbing onto his arm just as the kid touched the body of Cedric and the portkey. He felt a jerking sensation behind his naval, and the spooky cemetery disappeared into a disorientating swirl of colors._

With a bone-jarring slam, Harry, Ed and dead Cedric hit the slightly damp early summer grass face-first. Ow. Ed shifted his weight, groaning. That was definitely going to hurt like hell tomorrow. All around him, he could hear panicky voices, raised in alarm. Terrified screams echoed through the once still night air, followed by the pounding of hurried footsteps on the packed earth. He felt unknown hands reach over and roughly grab his shoulders, pulling him around to face the starry sky. The wizened and wise face of an old man with a long white beard stared back at him. His blue eyes twinkled benignly above a crooked nose and behind a pair of glasses.

"And who is this, Harry?" the old man inquired of the kid. His voice was light and curious, but Ed could see the nerves of steel hidden behind those innocent-looking baby blues.

"I don't know, Professor." Harry sounded small and frightened, and he seemed disoriented. "But he's back, sir. He's back. Voldemort's back." Something in the old man's face shifted, but he was abruptly shoved out of the way by a man in pinstripes.

"What's going on? What's happened?" The man's face was waxy white, and full of anxiety. He shook the boy roughly, desperately. "My god – Diggory! Dumbledore - he's dead!" Dumbledore? Wasn't that the person whom the snake-faced Moldymort has tortured Ed about? Now that he thought about it, Ed realized that Moldymort had said that this Dumbledore person was old. As he lay there thinking, the panicky voices parroted the pinstriped man's words.

"He's dead! He's _dead_! Cedric Diggory! Dead! _Diggory's dead_!"

"Who are you people and where the hell am I?" interjected Ed angrily. He was seeing red. All the people around him were rattled at the scene that had appeared before them, but his cross words shook them from their minds, making them stare at him in shock. After all, Ed was just a random person whom had somehow landed at the entrance to the maze of the third task. The old man looked over at Ed and offered him a bony and wrinkled hand. Ed accepted warily, and pulled himself to his feet. "Will you answer my questions, gramps, or will I make you answer them?" He didn't bother to soften his tone or his expression.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, was studying this strange boy, whose golden eyes glowered angrily and seemed to see into his very soul. The young man was obviously foreign, seeing his features. With that long hair, nearly the same color as his unusual eyes, Ed unknowingly exuded an air of mystery and this puzzled Dumbledore. He had never met a person with an appearance similar to Ed's, and how he had come to Hogwarts was enough to make Dumbledore want to question the boy. But what unsettled the old man the most was how old and weary the young man's eyes seemed. Whoever he was, the foreign boy had seen and experienced things no child should ever experience.

"Patience, and all will be answered in due time. What is your name, young man, and how did you come to Hogwarts?" Dumbledore's tone was reassuring and warm as he led the boy into the castle, away from prying eyes and curious students.

Ed looked at the old man with a guarded expression and answered carefully, "Edward Elric. And who are you, old man, and what is Hogwarts? Weird name."

"Why, Hogwarts is my school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to be exact. And I am Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, headmaster of this school. You may call me Professor Dumbledore."

Ed stared at the old man. For one, he had a really long name. What was his mother thinking when she named him? Learning to write that in kindergarten must've been torture. Also, did Dumbledore say _witchcraft_? And _wizardry_? What was this guy on to think he was a headmaster over a bunch of little magical freaks? But the more Ed thought about it, the more this magic theory made sense. It explained the weird coat-robe thingies everyone seemed to be wearing, the miraculous hand, resurrection, and the teleportation cup thingamabob. How they did all this was still a mystery, but at least his logical mind had some sort of explanation for the strange happenings that had occurred over the last hour or so.

Dumbledore watched as this Edward Elric took all this information in, and analyzed it. He could almost see the conflict on the young man's face as he digested the idea of magic and wizards. He could tell that the boy was not magical from the moment he set eyes on him, but yet Edward could see the school as it was. He didn't see the illusions that Muggles saw when they looked at Hogwarts. Dumbledore examined the boy more closely and was startled to recognize the symbol on the back of the boy's scarlet coat. It was an alchemy insignia. He himself had not seen it since his days gone by, working with Nicolas Flamel to discover the twelve uses of dragon's blood. No wonder the boy could see the castle.

"Okay, I'll believe you, Dumbledore. But pull any tricks and you'll be dead before you can raise that flimsy wand of yours." Ed had decided to trust this man for now. After all, Moldymort had seemed terrified of him. If there was any indicator to trust someone, it was evil ba*****s being scared s***less of him. I mean, look at Hawkeye. She had the Colonel cowering in fear of her pistol, and Ed could trust her. It was the same way with Winry. Ed was terrified of her, yet he knew that she was the person he could trust most, besides Al. There was also Teacher, well, before she died, anyways. Truth, he missed her and her violent teaching methods. "Who is this Lord Voldemort guy, why does he have a freaking cult, and where can I go back to kill the ba*****."

Dumbledore just gaped at Ed. "What reason do you have to kill him, Mr. Elric? I believe Mr. Potter has more of a claim to that than you. I believe you should tell me what has happened tonight, as it concerns one of my students."

"Shut up, old man. You don't know anything about me." Ed fumed silently. He had to kill Moldymort so he could save Al and go home, but he wasn't about to tell a creepy, delusional old man that.

"I know that your name is Edward Elric. I can describe your appearance to Ministry officials if needed, and I know that you are most likely an alchemist." Dumbledore was calm as he rattled off the things he knew.

Ed twitched. Gramps was good. He recognized the alchemic symbol on the back of his favorite red coat, and put two and two together. Damn him.

"Fine, I'm an alchemist. But what do you know about it, Dumbledore? Nothing, that's what."

"Alchemy is the science of understanding the structure of matter, breaking it down, and then reconstructing it as something else. Alchemy follows equivalent exchange, which is 'In order to obtain or create something, something of equal value must be lost or destroyed.' Equivalent exchange can be broken down into two laws: the Law of Conservation of Mass, and the Law of Natural Providence. Law of Conservation of Mass states that energy and matter can neither be created from nothing nor destroyed to the point of elemental nonexistence. In other words, to create an object weighing one kilogram, at least one kilogram of material is necessary and destroying an object weighing one kilogram would reduce it to a set of parts, the sum of which would weigh one kilogram. The Law of Natural Providence states that an object or material made of a particular substance or element can only be transmuted into another object with the same basic makeup and properties of that initial material. In other words, an object or material made mostly of water can only be transmuted into another object with the attributes of water, such as ice." Dumbledore easily listed the principles that made up Ed's entire world. Although the old man had not shown any alchemic ability, he had still learned the basic concepts from his old friend Flamel.

'Damn him' Ed thought. The old man had rattled off the laws like it was nothing, when people back home spent years to memorize and understand them. That was when he knew that he definitely wasn't in Kansas anymore.

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**Thanks to everyone for all the great support in my writing. If you see any errors or have any questions, just ask and you will recieve. Also, anyone with constructive criticism or cool ideas gets recognized in the next chapter. Review please!**

**-Lady Triplet**

**P.S. Thanks ChopSuzi. You are always good for a laugh when I need one.**


	5. That's My Story and I'm Sticking To It

**Hi again everyone! Thanks for the responses for the last chapter. I'm also going to warn you that I'll be gone until the 30th, so I can't post again until July. Here's the new chapter.**

**justanotherkiller: Yes, I know that I can swear in T rated stories, and there is some non-bleeped swearing, but my mom raised me right. Swearing just isn't in my vocabulary all that much. I try, because Ed swears a lot, but it's hard. Also, my dad knows I have an account on here and checks my stories every so often for language. I still want to have access to the computer, so no major swearing. Sorry!**

**To my reviewer, a hug, chocolate cake, and your name here: ChopSuzi, TheDanaDobreAKAToshiroLover, Nekogami Bastet, justanotherkiller, the unknown e, and Alice Nyte**

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP or any form of FMA, be it a movie, the manga, or any version of the anime. I must plot how to make it happen thought...**

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'_Damn him' Ed thought. The old man had rattled off the laws like it was nothing, when people back home spent years to memorize and understand them. That was when he knew that he definitely wasn't in Kansas anymore._

Dumbledore waited calmly and patiently while young Mr. Elric debated his options. Ed could either tell him why he wanted to kill Riddle or he could say "Screw it. Let's blow this popsicle stand" and walk away, finding his own way back to the graveyard where it had all happened. It wasn't much of an argument to begin with, anyways. Ed had no idea where this crazy school was, or even where the graveyard had been. Moldymort probably had left already, not sticking around to risk being discovered. He was lost, plain and simple. He knew he needed to rely on others and he hated the idea. Finally, Ed spoke.

"Fine. Seeing as you've realized I'm an alchemist, I might as well tell you why I'm here." His tone was one of defeat; he knew he couldn't hide now. Out of the blue, he heard a voice, taunting, familiar and completely unwelcome, echoing in his mind.

"_Very well, Mister Al-chem-ist~. Tell the old busybody most of it. Just keep me~ out of it, and do not mention Amestris. You see, it doesn't exist here."_ Gah, Ed really hated Truth. Especially when he did freaky things like being a voice in his head. It made Ed wonder if he was schizophrenic. It certainly wouldn't surprise him after all he and Al had been through if one of them were diagnosed with a mental disorder.

"I was sent here by a superior with an order to kill Tom Riddle, because of his attempts at immortality. We've heard of it, ya know, and the higher ups are getting edgy about it. People aren't supposed to live forever. That's not the way the world works. You live, and you die. All is one, and one is all. They're holding my little brother hostage unless I kill him, so it's really important that it happens, and soon." There, at least that was kind of the truth. I mean, Truth was a higher up, seeing as he was 'God' and all, and Al was a hostage in a way. He didn't mention Truth or Amestris at all, and the rest he could make up as he went along. His lie left plenty of room for fabricating answers to the harder questions like "Who's your superior?" or "Where are you from?". He could simply say that his superior (and at least this was _not_ a lie) was a man by the name of Brigadier-General Roy Mustang, and that he was from an underground fellowship of old-style alchemists. Easy.

"Very well. However, I would like to contact your superiors on their motives towards killing Tom." Dumbledore was cautious. That was good, but it was a question that Ed hadn't anticipated.

'Come on Truth. Help me out here! I know you're listening.' Ed was panicking on the inside, but his exterior was impassive and expressionless. "I already told you their motives. What if your contact gets _my _brother killed? I doubt even you have the power to resurrect the dead, or I'd have orders to kill you too."

"_Very nice, Mister Al-chem-ist~. Play the 'they'll kill him if you do that' card. That should stop his intrusive questions for now." _Truth's mocking tones reverberated around his skull.

"Ah. Well, we cannot allow that to happen, Mr. Elric, so I will put aside my queries for now. However, I am sure you have questions about what has happened tonight. What events have caused the most feared wizard of our time to rise again tonight?" Dumbledore knew the boy was still hiding something, but decided to let it be for the time being. It was more important to deduce how Voldemort once again was walking the earth. By all rights, he should never have come back.

By this time, they had reached the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle moved aside with the stated password from aforementioned wizard (acid pops) to reveal a spiral staircase leading to the circular office of the headmaster. If was filled from top to bottom with shelves and shelves of books. Ed loved it immediately. Dumbledore watched with amusement, blue eyes twinkling, as the young man's golden orbs lit up with enthusiasm. Even that revealed the boy's alchemy skills. Alchemists were renowned bookworms, with a talent for research. They sat down in their respective places; Ed in a squishy chair reserved for students and Dumbledore in the winged throne-like armchair behind his desk.

"This is going to take a while, Dumbledore" warned Ed.

"I have all the time in the world, Mr. Elric." Dumbledore's voice was reassuring. He was patient. After all, you didn't live to be as old as he was by being reckless and impulsive.

"Okay, so it started like this…." And so Ed recapped his entire, bizarre experience in the graveyard, with only a few changes. He told Dumbledore that he'd been tipped off about the graveyard by his superiors and had gone to investigate. He had stumbled upon the strange ritual and Voldemort had decided to use his blood as well. He also didn't mention anything about trying to leave the dead guy behind. Ed needed Dumbledore to trust him, and telling the man he had wanted to leave the dead body of one of his students behind with a dark wizard was one way to _not _achieve that. He had just finished the part where they had grabbed the portkey when there was a frantic pounding on the door.

"Professor, professor! Open the door. Is Harry in there with you?" Dumbledore waved his wand, and the door opened to reveal two students about Harry's age. One was a tall, gangly redhead and the other was an intelligent, bushy-haired girl. Both were out of breath and clearly worried.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley? Ms. Granger? Has something else happened to Harry this evening?" Dumbledore gazed at the pair, his tone light. His eyes, however, gave away his concern at their sudden and agitated appearance.

"Yes, Professor" exclaimed the bushy-haired Ms. Granger. "We can't find him anywhere. Professor Moody took him somewhere, but his office door is still locked and they're not in the hospital wing. Do you know where he is?"

"It seems that we shall continue this conversation another time, Mr. Elric. If you'll excuse me, it seems I have a missing student on my hands." Dumbledore rose from his seat and made to follow the harried pair out when Ed spoke up.

"I'm coming with. I have some questions only Potter can answer anyway."

Dumbledore examined Ed curiously. "Very well, Mr. Elric. Shall we proceed?"

"Let's go." Ed stalked out of the office, with the others trailing after him like lost little ducklings.

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**Review please! I love you guys to bits for giving me so much support on this, so thanks again!**

**-Lady Triplet**


	6. Finding The Boy Who Lived

**Hey everyone! I'm back from my nice long vacation and I got a lot of love while I was away. My story just keeps getting more and more popular. Anyways, here's the list of thank yous for reviews:**

** ChopSuzi, Nekogami Bastet, the lazy and anonymous e, TheBleachDoctor, wishfulliving89, Rose Thorn, Mel72000, and justanotherkiller**

**Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Seriously, I don't. If I did, I'd make Harry play the 'got your nose' game with Voldy and Riza would be dead cause she takes Roy away from me! DIE!**

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"_I'm coming with. I have some questions only Potter can answer anyway."_

_Dumbledore examined Ed curiously. "Very well, Mr. Elric. Shall we proceed?"_

"_Let's go." Ed stalked out of the office, with the others trailing after him like lost little ducklings. _

Ron and Hermione were mystified and inquires ran at a rapid pace through their confused minds. Who was this strange boy that Dumbledore had called 'Mr. Elric'? What questions did he have for Harry? How old was he really? It was hard to tell because he was so short, but his molten gold eyes burned with a will that suggested he had seen much in his life. They hurried after the tall, wizened figure of Dumbledore, but the stranger was farther ahead. In fact, they could hardly see his long, braided hair anymore, showing the speed at which he walked.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was wondering what in the world was wrong with Alastor. Moody would never have taken Harry away from Dumbledore's sight under the current circumstances. There was only one explanation for Alastor's strange behavior tonight.

The man he believed to be Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody was, in fact, an imposter. The real Moody must be being kept somewhere nearby, in order to supply living DNA for a Polyjuice potion, so that gave the old man some comfort. He would need the real Moody if what had happened tonight was true. He would need help in reviving the Order. The only questions that remained in Dumbledore's mind were 'Who is this imposter?' and 'What is he doing with Harry now?'. The old man knew he would not like his answers.

The group had now reached the entryway to the Great Hall, and found Ed staring around him, searching for something to lead him to Potter. McGonagall and Snape were conversing intently by the doorway, but when they saw Dumbledore stride into the hall, they hurried over with uneasy countenances.

"Ah, Minerva, Severus, just the people I was hoping to see." Dumbledore kept his voice quiet and calm. "It appears Alastor is not himself tonight."

"Yes Albus, that is what we wish to speak to you about" McGonagall said worriedly. "He took Potter off somewhere. It's not like him, not like him at all. Something is wrong here."

"Headmaster", drawled Snape lazily, "as much as I hate to admit it, Minerva has a point. Moody is paranoid, and would not drag _Potter_" he said the boy's name with as much loathing and disgust as possible "off without making sure you or others he trusted stayed around. This is not Alastor Moody."

"Yes, Severus, I have realized that when Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger nearly knocked down my office door, demanding to know if Mr. Potter was with me. We must hurry. Time is of the essence." He then turned to Ron and Hermione. "Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, could you perhaps go to my office and write a letter to Sirius, asking him to meet me there? Fawkes can take it. Tell him to come immediately."

"Y-yes Professor" stammered Hermione. She was frightened now. If Professor Moody wasn't Professor Moody, did that mean he was a Death Eater impersonating the paranoid ex-Auror? Well, she didn't have time to dwell on any of this. She had to get a letter to Harry's godfather. She turned to Ron impatiently and said "Come _on_, Ron. We have to write Sirius." Hermione promptly dragged him off by his arm, ignoring Ron's protests of her hurting him.

Dumbledore turned back to his awaiting teachers. "Let us go."

"Wait a minute! Will someone explain what the hell is going on here?" Ed was feeling rather forgotten. He had watched quietly as the other professors brought their suspicions to the old man, and as the same oldster sent the frantic friends of the boy wonder off to mail a letter. Honestly, with the seriousness of everything happening right now, how was a letter so important. He supposed that this 'Serious' (?) person could be significant enough to warrant a letter in this crisis. But he was done with being ignored. He wanted to know who this Moody was and find where Potter was hiding. Ed had a lot of things to say to the kid, not all of them polite.

"Mr. Elric, if you could wait just a few moments, all your inquiries will be answered." Dumbledore then turned back to his teachers and led them all down the halls of his school to the imposter's classroom and office.

Ed was quickly lost as they wound through the maze of hallways. Without Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape leading the way, it could have taken him ages to find anything. He hated to admit it, but he needed these people, no matter how much he might dislike the headmaster. He sighed, resigned to his fate for now.

As Ed contemplated this new situation, Dumbledore stopped outside a door at the end of a particularly long and winding hallway. Without a moment's hesitation, he pushed the door open to reveal Potter cowering in the corner, with the Moody imposter standing over him, wand raised threateningly.

"_Stupefy!_" Dumbledore cast the Stunning spell at the grizzled man, throwing him backwards onto the cold stone floor. The old man's face was cold and harsh as he gazed at the unconscious figure on the floor. From the look on Harry's face, Ed guessed that the boy had never stopped to think how Moldymort could be so terrified of the old man. He could, without a doubt, see it now. Dumbledore wore power like a wet woolen cloak, burdened down with the sheer immensity of it.

McGonagall went over to Potter, and helped him up. "Come along, Potter." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Come along…hospital wing…" She looked as if she were about to cry. Damn it, Ed hated it when women cried. He was no good at dealing with it. She started to take Harry out of the room, when Dumbledore intervened.

"No." His voice was sharp, and carried a tone of authority that hadn't been there previously. When McGonagall tried to argue, saying that Potter had been through enough already, he continued. "He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand." There was some more after that, but Ed tuned it out. All he cared about was the body Dumbledore stood in front of. Fake Moody was beginning to stir already. Now was when he would finally get some answers...

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**So, what do you think? Next chapter should have fake Moody's interrogation and maybe the talk with Sirius in Dumbledore's office. But really people. FLAME ME! I want some constructive critisim. I can't get cool new ideas if you don't yell at me every once and a while. I'll try to update in two days. See you then! :D**

** - Lady Triplet**


	7. Interrogation

**Hello again everyone. Since I've had a lot of requests for longer chapters, this one is nearly twice as long as normal. I'll try to keep it up. Again, thanks to the following for reviews. You all get Armstrong hugs of death and Molly Weasley's chocolate cake: **

**ChopSuzi per usual (THANKS!), Khazad, Mel72000, justanotherkiller, Featherpen1800, Anonymous, IHaveHornsHoldingUpMyHalo, and Someone Who's Too Lazy To Login.**

**A special thanks to Someone Who's Too Lazy To Login for all the great critique and ideas. I love you lots! -gives hug of death- :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or FMA at all, even though I want to. Does someone want to get the rights for me as a late birthday present? PLEEEEEASE?**

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_There was some more after that, but Ed tuned it out. All he cared about was the body Dumbledore stood in front of. Fake Moody was beginning to stir already. Now was when he would finally get some answers. _

Snape warily gazed at the strange golden-eyed boy that had appeared alongside Potter at the start of all this night's chaos. Dumbledore seemed to have faith the boy, but then again, Snape had always believed the old fool to be too trusting. The dark, brooding professor would come to his own conclusions, thank you very much, and not blindly follow Dumbledore like so many of his colleagues – cough cough, _McGonagall_, cough cough.

At this moment, Ed was watching fake Moody's form intently, waiting for him to rouse. He wanted answers; he wanted them _now_, and this man would give them to him, whether he wanted to or not. He dimly heard Dumbledore send the strict woman who almost reminded him of Teacher (McGonagall, was it?) to the kitchens to get someone called Winky (What kind of name was _that_?). The old man also sent the greasy, bat-like man to get a truth potion. Wait a minute….

Snape watched as the blonde boy's head snapped up at the mention of getting a truth potion. His reaction was strange, almost like when the Muggleborn students learned about Veritaserum for the first time. Maybe that was it. Whatever the boy's problem was, Snape had a job to do, and with that, he swooped past Ed's stunned figure and out the door. It was time for the imposter to answer for his crimes.

"Old man", Snape heard the boy ask the Headmaster inquisitively as he left, "What the hell does a truth potion do? How is it even possible for one to exist?" Interesting…

Dumbledore turned away from Harry to answer young Mr. Elric's question. "A truth potion makes the drinker tell nothing but the truth for a short amount of time – up to an hour, I believe. As to how it exists, well, let's just call it _magic_."

Ed scoffed at that. "I'm still not sure if you're crazy and delusional or not, old man. Don't push it. You may know about alchemy and its principles, but that doesn't mean that I automatically trust everything you do and say. Logic and science has an answer for all of this, not magic. All I have to do is figure it out. After all, magic is supposed to be just a science we don't understand yet."

"Um…...this might just be me…..but…who are you and why were you in the graveyard with me and Cedric?" Both Dumbledore and Ed turned around to face Harry. They had forgotten he was there at all. Kind of stupid, seeing as the Boy Who Lived was the heart of all of the night's problems.

"Ah, I'm quite sorry, my dear boy. This is Edward Elric and he is an alchemist. As to what he was doing in the graveyard, the answer will be left up to him. It is not my place to give it." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled over the edge of his glasses. It creeped Ed out a bit. The only people back home with twinkly eyes were Winry, when she talked about automail, Mustang, when he talked about miniskirts, and Armstrong, who seemed to have them permanently embedded in his corneas. Safe to say, that was enough warning for Ed to be even more wary of the man. Everyone with twinkly eyes hurt him. Winry hit him with her wrench, Mustang tried to torch him, and Armstrong gave out hugs of death and doom. Twinkly-eyed people were to be treated with caution. Dumbledore made his way over to Moody's massive chest in the corner of the office. He might as well make himself useful while the boys sorted things out.

"I'm here to kill your creepy snake-faced stalker, Potter. I have orders from my superiors not to return until he is dead." Ed intoned in a bored sort of voice. He examined his fingernails as he did so, making himself the picture of impassive distain. "I came to the graveyard because we got intelligence about tonight's activities, and Moldymort just so happens to be on our hit list."

"W-w-wait a second… You're an _assassin_ or something? You're just a kid, like me. And alchemy is dead; no one uses it anymore, not since Nicolas Flamel died in my first year." Great, now Potter was staring at Ed like he was some kind of monster. But it was the kid comment that really aggravated him, above all else.

"First of all, no, I'm not an assassin. Secondly, I'm not a kid; I haven't been a kid for years now. And lastly, alchemy is _not_ dead. There are still active alchemists. You just have to know where to look to find us." At least the Potter boy didn't question why Moldymort was on Truth's 'Next To Die' list. That would have taken too long to explain.

Harry just stared at Ed. Okay, if a staring contest was what Boy Wonder wanted, then a staring contest he would get. Ed gave him his own unnerving golden glare back.

Dumbledore was crouched down on the floor, examining a large chest. He tapped the numerous locks with his wand, and lifted the lid warily. The first locked section was average, as was the second. So this continued for six locks. But the seventh appeared to be a deep, cavernous dungeon. Down below, huddled on the bottom, was a man remarkable similar to the man lying unconscious on the floor up in the office. The only differences, as far as Ed and Harry - staring over the Headmaster's shoulders - could see were the missing whirling eye, roughly cut hair, and the peg leg. Dumbledore turned to the two boys, and nodded at them.

"Ah, Harry, my dear boy, and Edward, could you perhaps assist me in removing Alastor from him own trunk, if you will. He needs to go to the hospital wing." With that, Dumbledore lowered himself into the trunk and when he came up again, it was with the real Mad-Eye Moody floating up behind him. The boys grabbed the unconscious, weakened man as he soared out of the chest. Grunting at the sudden weight, Harry and Ed gently set him on the ground. They turned back to the trunk to assist Dumbledore in lifting himself out of Moody's prison. Harry was shocked to feel how frail and light his mentor seemed. Dumbledore had always seemed invincible, especially after his perfectly timed entrance that had saved him from the imposter. Then he had given the impression that he was omnipotent and livid. Then he had seemed terrifying. Now, the Headmaster was just looking old and weak.

They turned to look at the imposter now, and saw his features melting away. His grizzly gray hair shortened and turned fair as straw, his nose grew smaller and whole, and the fake eye and leg popped out to be replaced by real ones. And although Ed's exterior was just as calm and emotionless as before, inside he was having a mini panic attack. It was like another Envy. He really hoped not everyone could do that here. It would make his life much more problematic.

"Just as I thought. With all the excitement tonight, it seems our imposter has forgotten to take his Polyjuice potion on the hour, every hour. Now we can see who he really is. Barty Crouch Jr."

By now, Snape had swooped back into the room, carrying a small vial filled with what looked to be water. It was the Veritaserum. Good. McGonagall followed close behind, dragging a sobbing, hysterical _thing _with her. It had huge bulbous eyes, flappy bat-like ears, and a massive head for its body. Something about its facial features seemed vaguely feminine, but it was hard to tell. She (or maybe he) appeared to be wearing a tea towel, of all things. When she (or he) saw the unconscious blonde man on the floor, she burst out in hysterics all over again.

"Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?" She flung herself – Ed could definitely tell it was female now – at the imposter's chest, hugging him and sobbing all over again. "You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"

Dumbledore assured the sobbing creature that he was only stunned, but it was to no avail. She only cried harder. The old man sighed, and pointed his wand at the unconscious man. "_Ennervate_."

Barty Crouch Jr. opened his eyes to stare into the faces of the people he had so long deceived.

Snape stalked over to the man, forced his mouth open by squeezing his cheeks harshly together, and dumped the clear contents of his vial down his throat. Let the questioning begin.

Dumbledore started. "How did you escape from Azkaban?" "What did your father do with you one he got you out?" "How did he subdue you?" "Did anyone discover you were still alive and who was it?" "Tell me about the Quidditch Cup?" "So you stole the wand. What did you do with it?" "And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" "What became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" "What did you do to the body?" The old man sounded just like Mustang when he interrogated suspicious persons in the Scar case. Professional, aloof. He asked all the right questions and got the whole story out without any trouble. In fact, Crouch seemed proud of the fact that he had killed his father, abandoned his mother in an inescapable prison, and attempted to assist a madman with a god complex in killing a defenseless kid. He had a maniacal grin on his face, imagining the great honor he would have for helping his master achieve resurrection.

Dumbledore looked disgusted and stood up. As Ed gazed around the room, his mind still whirling with all the new information he needed to digest, he saw Harry's face. The Boy Who Lived looked sick, and as Dumbledore strode over to him and took him by the arm, Ed saw the glazed look in his emerald eyes. Harry Potter was in shock at the elaborate, and partially successful, plan to kill him and return the Dark Lord.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts spoke softly to his most famous student, and after speaking briefly with McGonagall before leading the boy out the room and to his office. His godfather waited there, to console the boy.

As soon as Dumbledore was out of earshot, the intimidating Professor Snape strode over to Ed, his face set. Ed recognized that expression. It was the same one Mustang used when he wanted answers, and that was precisely what Severus Snape wanted from Ed. Who was this strange boy? It was time for him to answer.

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**Thanks for reading again! This chapter was six page long this time, instead of the usual three or four. I hope you all like it. Any ideas for next chapter? I accept and try to work in all ideas, unless they are inappropriate.**

**- Lady Triplet**


	8. Snape, Snape, Severus Snape

**Hello, faithful readers! You are all so patient, waiting a week for me to update. I'll try to update once a week for now, because I have work and a class right now. That means lots of homework and little computer time. But a huge thanks to Kitsune-242 for your enthusiastic support. You really helped motivate me to finish this chapter today. On to the thanks!**

**Mel72000, Anonymous, another Anonymous, Someone Who's Still Too Lazy To Login, justanotherkiller, ChopSuzi as usual, Black Phantom Murder, wishfulliving89, Kitsune-242, and SaturnXK**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, the list of things I don't own includes Harry Potter and all of its franchise products, as well as any sort of thing resembling FMA. T_T**

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_As soon as Dumbledore was out of earshot, the intimidating Professor Snape strode over to Ed, his face set. Ed recognized that expression. It was the same one Mustang used when he wanted answers, and that was precisely what Severus Snape wanted from Ed. Who was this strange boy? It was time for him to answer._

'Okay, enough already! How many people are going to f***ing interrogate me? I get that they're kinda scared right now, if what the crazy old Gramps told me was true, but _come on_!' First the noseless wonder, then Dumbledore, and now this greasy-haired creep was the one advancing towards him with a sense of purpose. Ed was thoroughly sick of questions and bending the truth. Damn Truth for this stupid job.

"Boy" Snape's drawling sneer shook Ed from his thoughts.

"Yes, freak?" Ed drawled back, almost as scathingly. Aw man, the look on the slimy git's face was priceless. Ed guessed – correctly – that the man wasn't used to getting smack-talked to by kids. Snape, meanwhile, was quite taken aback. The boy had flawlessly imitated Snape's signature tones of loathing without a second thought. It was very impressive.

"Boy" he tried again, "who are you?" Snape gave a suitably intimidating glare, the kind that made even seventh years fear him, and waited.

Nothing. The strange, golden-eyed boy didn't even flinch. Hell, he didn't even blink. Instead, he just stared back with his own daunting golden gaze. It was unnerving, to say the least.

Ed smirked a Mustang 'I WIN' smirk. 'Ed: one, Slimeball: _zero_.' It was way too easy to wind these people up. He absentmindedly wondered how long it would take him to have the man tearing his hair out in frustration. If he was back at Central, the guys would be taking bets on it. Of course, when – not if – Hawkeye found out, she would threaten the lot of them with her gun for gambling when they should have been working. It had happened before. A sudden pang of homesickness from that thought startled Ed. He hadn't been gone that long, only a few hours, but he already missed everyone. It was strange to have to deal with an entirely new situation without Al. His little brother had gone everywhere with him. They had stuck together through thick and thin, war and death, tragedy and failures. Ed had never strayed far from his Alphonse's side, even as young children. And Mustang, no matter how annoying all of the man's short jokes got, had always had Ed's back when he got into trouble. Actually, considering his past, Mustang covered Ed's a** more times than he could count.

Snape watched as the boy's eyes glazed over, reliving some past event. He wondered what could possibly be so interesting that he ignored the foreboding potions master's attentions. Feeling slightly apprehensive for some odd reason, he thought _'Legilimens'_. And with that, an alarming amount of images and memories flashed before Snape's mental eye.

_He was in a room, filled with of a group of people in what looked to be blue Muggle military uniforms, gathered around a table. They were placing some sort of bet, and sent catcalls to the figures on the nearby couch. One, whom Snape seemed to be sitting next to, was wearing a large, antique suit of armor. The armor looked down at Snape, who was startled to realize he was the strange boy from before; he was dressed black and red, wearing pristine white gloves._

"_Brother" said the armor in a child's voice. "Don't encourage them! Lieutenant Hawkeye will get mad. She's scary when she's mad, almost like Teacher."_

"_Al, we'll be fine. She won't find out; Colonel Bastard is distracting her. Anyways, no one's as scary as Teacher." As Snape – or, rather, the boy – said this, the door to the office slammed open, revealing an angry blonde woman, also in uniform, followed by a handsome dark-haired man, pleading for her to calm down. _

"_Get back to work!" She barked at the men. They jumped up, shocked, and promptly saluted her. _

"_Yes Lieutenant Hawkeye, sir!" The men hurried back to their respective desks and started to go through the stacks of papers there. The woman then turned to the man behind her and drew out her pistol from a holster at the small of her back. _

"_You too, sir. Finish your paperwork." The man flinched visibly. Snape couldn't blame him; this woman was frightening. _

"_But Riza," he whined. "I have important things to do." _

"_No buts sir. Looking at girls in miniskirts is not important and you know it. And before you ask: NO, FOT THE LAST TIME, I WILL NOT WEAR A MINISKIRT!" Her voice was forceful and strained. When Snape – I mean the boy – snickered, she turned on him, fire in her eyes. _

"_And you, Edward. Don't encourage them. What kind of example are you setting for your little brother?" That sobered Snape *cough, Ed, cough* up quickly. His head turned towards the armor again._

"_Sorry, Al." Then everything shifted once again. Flashes of the same boy in armor standing next to him, the location different every time._

_One, the strange boy was sitting in a wheelchair, staring into a mirror, gaunt and pale, with a stump of a left leg and a bandaged shoulder, the arm completely missing. The armor is behind the wheelchair. _

_Again, the armor gone, standing next to a young boy in front of a grave, sobbing. _

_Again, in front of a burning house, the armor back once more. _

_Again, staring at a war-torn city, fighting all around them. People are dying in the streets while soldier fight civilians and each other, guns blazing. Bullets missed him by millimeters, ruffling his long golden hair._

_Again, a strange geometric-filled circle, the center obscured by writhing, monstrous thing, blood pooling on the floor. The armored boy's screams fill the air, and a hand reaches out, only to unravel away into nothing. Then pain, unbearable pain, and a glimpse of a stone doorway, a white void, and a shadowy figure, grinning maliciously…_

Suddenly, Snape snaps back into reality, and not a moment too soon. The boy – Edward, if the memories were any indication – stalked over, his eyes filled with barely suppressed rage and horror, and buried his fist in the potions master's solar plexus. Snape flew across Moody's office and his back slammed against the wall, knocking the wind from him.

Ed was livid. This man had somehow gotten into his mind and accessed the memories he had very much wanted to forget. If Ed hadn't realized it at that moment, this ba***** would have seen the Gate and met Truth as Ed had. He would have realized Ed's greatest regret.

"Severus!" McGonagall gasped. She had watched the whole encounter with curiosity at first, but now she was alarmed at the boy's violence. Of course, she didn't realize that Snape had used Legilimency on the boy. She hurried over to her sallow-skinned colleague and helped him to his feet. "What is the meaning of this?"

"That ba***** read my mind, damn it! I can hit him if I want." Then, Ed added childishly: "He deserves it."

"Severus, you wouldn't! You have to have a legitimate reason to perform Legilimency on anyone, let alone a child." McGonagall was appalled. The Ministry only sanctioned the use of Legilimency if it was absolutely necessary. To use it on a child, in her mind, was an atrocious thing to do.

"That is no child, Minerva, not after what I've seen. What was that, boy, the thing in the circle? And who was the child who disintegrated into thin air?" Snape let his voice fill with venom.

"I don't need to answer any of your questions, _Sevvy._ Not after what you've done." Ed turned his back on the two professors, intent on finding his way to the old man's office again. But it was not to be.

"_Impedimenta!_" Snape cried from behind. McGonagall, with a cry of "Severus, NO!" pushed his wand aside, causing the curse to hit the wall next to Ed, instead of Ed himself.

Ed turned back towards Snape, moving slowly and deliberately. His eyes, the two professors saw, were like smoldering caldrons of molten metal. His gaze never leaving Snape, Ed clapped his hands together, as if in prayer, and bent down to let his fingertips graze the ground with the lightest of touches. Blue energy crackled like lightning all around him, throwing his shadow in high relief on the wall behind him and filling the room with its glow. And in the midst of this display, a stone hand reached up out of the floor and grasped the tall, dark professor tightly in a fist, effectively trapping him.

Upon seeing the expressions of shock on McGonagall's and Snape's faces, Ed turned from the room once more, a satisfied smile on his face. 'That should hold him…'

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**You guys know the drill by now: review and all that jazz. I'll see you all sometime next week, maybe around Thursday or Friday. **

**- Lady Triplet 3**


	9. Being Lost and Meeting Chocolate

**Hi everyone! I found it really hard to write this chapter, for the sole reason that my concentration is horrible. I keep going to other stories while writing and reading those instead. Anyways, can I please get more reviews? I got twelve this chapter, from some of my favorite reviewers, because they almost always review. **

**Thanks to: ChopSuzi, wishfulliving89, Truth's Apprentice, justanotherkiller, TheDanaDobreAKAToshiroLover, E.P. Wat.s, Kitsune-242, Mel72000, Kaleidoscope Glass, SinoPrisca and a Guest.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything other than my cool Edgar Allen Poe t-shirt, my stuffed and nameless bunny, and a notebook filled with literary ideas.**

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_Upon seeing the expressions of shock on McGonagall's and Snape's faces, Ed turned from the room once more, a satisfied smile on his face. 'That should hold him…'_

Once out of the imposter's rooms, Ed looked around. He had absolutely no idea where the hell he was. The brisk walk through these halls before now, led by Dumbledore, had left him no time to memorize the way back into the Great Hall or to Dumbledore's office. Maybe he could find someone to direct him, but that was unlikely. Even with the amount of people he had seen in the stands outside, this castle seemed large enough that you could spend hours in these halls, wandering around, and not meet a single person.

Well, when in doubt, find a window. You could always gain your bearings if you could see around you, and if that didn't work well enough, Ed figured he could always climb out of the window down to the ground. It would be even better if the spectators were still out on the lawn, so he could laugh at their shocked faces. Ed grinned evilly at the thought.

With a plan now in mind, Ed set off again, intent on not only finding a way back to the Great Hall, but to put as much distance between himself and that greasy, bat-like freak as possible.

The halls before him twisted constantly, with multiple corridors branching out from it, and just as many doors as corridors. Yet he could find no windows. Already it felt as if he had been wandering lost in these halls for hours, but a glance at his pocket watch told Ed it was otherwise. It had, in fact, been only fifteen minutes. But damn it, even fifteen minutes was too long for Ed. There were too many damn paths to take and constant twining hallways made his sense of direction. Although he hated to admit it, Ed needed help. Really, that should be some indicator that he was _very _lost; Ed asking for help, it was joked around the office, was a sign of the apocalypse.

"Helloooooo?" he called out. "Anybody there? Anyone?" Ed was desperate to get out of this stupid castle and find Tom Riddle again. Al would be worried sick about him. Never mind the fact that Winry would kill him for worrying her too. Actually, now that he took the time to think about it, Colonel Ba***** would be worried too, along with Teacher and Lieutenant Hawkeye. Even Armstrong would be worried if he heard Ed was missing. He would probably give Ed another hug of death when he saw him again, complete with those weird pink sparkles. He shuddered. Maybe he could shove the Colonel (Ed just couldn't get used to calling him Brigadier-General) in front instead. That would be worth a few laughs, and it would make up for the scolding from Hawkeye, too.

As he was lost in thought, Ed's feet unknowingly carried him down the winding halls of Hogwarts. As it often happens when thinking deeply and walking occur at the same time, Ed ran into something. Or, rather, he ran into some_one_.

"Oh? Aren't you that boy with Potter before?" Ed looked up, shaken from his thoughts by both the voice and the sudden contact with the person's body. It was the man from before, the one in the pinstripes that had frantically hovered over the dead boy and Potter outside earlier. Ed wondered just who this man was, because he carried himself with an air of self-contained importance. Of course, this all was contradicted by the man's figure. He was a rather portly and older gentleman, with a bowler hat and a bemused expression on his face.

"On your way to the hospital wing, boy, hmm? You most certainly need it." This made Ed think. Oh yeah, he had fallen on his face when the Portkey had dropped himself, Potter, and the dead guy onto the Hogwarts lawn. That most likely would leave a few bruises and would also explain why his nose was sore.

The man continued on, oblivious to Ed's distraction. "You're going to see how young Mr. Potter is doing as well, I suppose." This made the man frown deeply.

"Uh…excuse me? Who the _hell_ are you?" Ed glared rudely at the man, crossing his arms in a classic pose of defiance as he did so. His lack of recognition, more so than his rude language towards the strange man, seemed to throw off the man from his current babbling state.

"Why, my dear boy, _I'm_ the _Minister of Magic_ here in England, Cornelius Fudge." The newly named Fudge searched Ed's face for any sign of humor. Surely the boy must be joking. _Everyone _knew who he was. Fudge just wasn't used to being anonymous. He had gotten used to the fame and power that accompanied his title and job description.

"Never heard of you." Ed was very nonchalant, a fact only his eyes betrayed. They stared at Fudge, calculating and cold. "Is being the Minister of Magic like being a Fuhrer? Because then I would understand better. I don't know what the hell a minister is or what you're supposed to do." He watched as Fudge spluttered in indignation, quietly amused, although Ed was very careful to keep his face void of emotion. He wanted to see where this would go. Would Fudge get angry and stalk off, or attempt to explain and show him the way to the hospital wing?

Happily enough for Ed, the Minister of Magic chose to do that latter. He drew Ed close and with a concerned, "You must have fallen harder than I thought, my dear boy. Let's get you along to see Madam Pomfrey. She'll fix you up in a jiffy", Fudge began a lengthy explanation of what the Minister of Magic did and all of the privileges it entailed. Ed tuned him out, just happy that someone was getting him somewhere away from these damn confusing corridors and hopefully into a place with windows. After all, the only hospital Ed knew of without windows would be an asylum.

Fudge dragged Ed through the maze of Hogwarts, and the silent and somber students that began to fill the hallways parted before them like Moses parted the Red Sea. Everyone around them watched the odd pair; the Minister, cheerfully and enthusiastically explaining his job, happy someone was interested, and a teenaged boy with long golden hair in a braid, molten eyes scanning those around him curiously. One look into those eyes, though, and the unlucky person quickly looked away. Ed's eyes had a tendency to unnerve people, what with all of their intensity and discontent. Although, that might have been from the facial bruising and the bloody cut still on his neck from Wormtail's knife. You never know…

The air in Hogwarts was now filled with sorrow and confusion, for none of the students from any of the three schools knew what precisely had happened that night. They only knew that Cedric was dead, and that a strange boy with haunting eyes had mysteriously appeared alongside the two Hogwarts champions.

Finally, Ed and Fudge reached their destination. They stood briefly outside the massive doors to the hospital wing, before Fudge pushed them open with purpose, calling out "Where's Dumbledore?"

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**Please review! I miss hearing from you guys and I love all your feedback. I use it, reallly! See, I used someone's idea for getting the ministry involved! Ed meets Fudge and promtly insults him, which is totally Ed. See you all next week!**

**- Lady Triplet**


	10. Hero of the People meets the Golden Boy

**Hi guys. I'm really really sorry it has taken me so long to update this story. Between high school, college visits, work and just plain ol' life, I've had maybe one day I could have worked on An Aberrant Assignment. My updates will continue to be infrequent until summer. I'll do my best to post every so often, but I can't promise much. I refuse to abandon this, though. As usual, here's my thanks...**

**E. P. Wat.s, supernaturalrox, Mel72000, Suuki-Aldrea, ibreathesarcasm, a Guest, ChopSuzi, Girl-With-Phoenix-Wings, SaturnXK, whisperfur, LuvAlexander, MyraBrown, ReikoShichi, kagehi, Featherpen1800, another Guest, BigD, and Yami's Devil, who went and reviewed all the chapters in just a few days.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP or FMA. If I did, why would I be working?**

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_Finally, Ed and Fudge reached their destination. They stood briefly outside the massive doors to the hospital wing, before Fudge pushed them open with purpose, calling out "Where's Dumbledore?"_

The room they entered, side by side, was similar to a hospital in appearance. That is, if hospitals were placed in massive stone rooms with vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows. But, you know, other than that rather trivial detail, it looked exactly like a hospital. There were white beds surrounded by white curtains, metal wheelie trays at the foot of each bed, and even an old-fashioned nurse in a long white dress and a white cap with a red cross emblazoned across the front. Yeah, that's a lot of white. Ed kinda wondered why all hospitals were filled with white things? Was the color supposed to make them feel like everything was cleaner or something? All it really did was make him nervous. Of course, Truth and his creepy neither-here-nor-there realm of white oblivion rather traumatized him and ruined the color – or was it lack of color – for him forever. Wait, now he was going off on a tangent. Come on Ed, stop getting distracted…

In one of the aforementioned white beds, Harry Potter was staring at the doorway to the Hospital Wing. It was that guy from the graveyard when Voldemort resurrected himself. The bloke with the bad mouth, the one who didn't seem to know when shutting up would be a good thing for his health. Actually, his bad habit of mouthing off to the wrong people almost reminded Harry of the Weasley twins. Unfortunately, Fudge was with him, so Harry couldn't exactly go up and start talking to the guy. Well, that, and the fact that Madam Pomfrey would probably kill him if he tried to get out of bed again. Harry wasn't exactly the most cooperative patient the school nurse had dealt with. He also probably was one of the ones she saw the most, considering his knack of getting into trouble.

Speaking of Madam Pomfrey, the minute the strange boy with gold eyes stepped foot in her infirmary, she had hurried over, clucking in distress over the state of his face. It was covered in livid bruises, already turning an impressive variety of colors. The scratches above his left eye and littering his high cheekbones oozed blood - where it hadn't already dried - and his nose looked like it might possibly be broken.

"Oh dear, what's this? Hairline nasal fracture, facial bruising, ecchymosis…. Someone has given you quite a brutal beating, young man." With that, Madame Pomfrey began muttering diagnostic spells under her breath, checking for any other, unseen injuries.

The moment her spells touched him, however, the kindly school nurse gasped.

"My dear boy, what _is _this?" Madame Pomfrey made to grab Ed's right arm, but realizing what she was about to do, Ed yanked it behind his back. He didn't particularly want the whole world to gape at his automail and to cry like complete morons over his "inspiring and tragic tale" when he was forced to tell them the usual lie of how he lost his limbs, especially seeing as this dimension seemed to be devoid of automail and all of its benefits and detriments.

'Like hell she's seeing it…'

"Ahem. Madame, I believe I inquired as to the location of the Headmaster?" Fudge interrupted Ed's musings and the nurse's examination.

"Oh, Minister. I'm so sorry." Now the Pomfrey was rather flustered. She had downright ignored the Minister of Magic! How rude of her! "The Professor has a few obligations at the moment. I believe he will be back to check on Mr. Potter in a little while."

"Then I believe I shall wait here, if you don't mind." Harry, on the other side of the Hospital Wing, was rather nervous upon hearing those words come out of the Minister's mouth. Why did Fudge want to speak to Dumbledore?

While Harry was lost in his thoughts, Ed had finally noticed the Golden Boy. 'Isn't he that kid everything here revolves around? Heh, sucks to be him…' Then, he walked over, careful to avoid getting the attention of the nurse again – who was focusing on pleasing the so called Minister of Magic – and poked Harry in the head, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Hey, you. What're you doing in here? You don't look that hurt to me." Ed looked Harry up and down, examining him with an alchemist's eye for detail. "Not a scratch on you."

"Wait, who are you? And why were you in the graveyard and why were you looking for Voldemort? Did you want to be a Death Eater? Do you have a death wish, because you don't seem to know when to shut up, and why are you so short?"

"Hold on a second, kid. I'm Edward Elric but you can call me Ed, alchemist, trying to kill Moldymort, no, maybe, I'm not quite sure because it really seems like it sometimes. Also… WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO MICROSCOPIC THAT ANTS NEED A MAGNIFYING GLASS TO SEE ME? HUH?!"

Oh, great. Now Ed was in trouble. Not only was the Potter kid looking at him with a mix of confusion, terror and awe, but the nurse-lady was coming over with a dark look on her face.

"What are you doing, young man? Don't disturb my other patients. The poor boy is traumatized. And why aren't you in bed? Come on, dearie. Over here is your bed. Now put those pajamas on and let me fix you up. Oh, and Mr. Potter, be sure to drink your sleeping potion, there's a good lad." It was official. Ed loathed hospitals and the nurses that staffed them.

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**What do you think? Give me more reviews, because without them, this story will wither away...**

**Also, YAY! I have 100 reviews! **

**-Ahem- Sorry about the outburst... I kinda got overexicted. See you all whenever I can manage to update again.**

**Adios**

**- Lady Triplet**


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